


Invincible to Bullets

by OrangeZest100



Category: Criminal Minds, Heroes (TV)
Genre: Aliases, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:22:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeZest100/pseuds/OrangeZest100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BAU team go after a renowned killer by the name of Sylar, except the killer has something they've never seen before and they have to adjust to this knew threat.</p><p>Really heavy Spencer/Sylar going on that goes on throughout in various ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Penny in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more tags when they become necessary. Not my best work but it's something.

                New cases usually involve little-to-no beforehand preparation, and what preparation is done is generally done on the move.  This unsub has been working for a long time; Reid can study the hefty file from his couch.  Currently, Reid’s shuffling through all possible meanings for the name “Sylar”, lying down on his couch to stare at the ceiling.  Absentmindedly, he reaches out a hand on his coffee table to have a mug slide into his hand from its position six inches away.  Reid doesn’t remember the exact moment he discovered that he had telekinesis, but he knows that he’s smart enough to keep it hidden.  Another thing he knows is that there’s something strange about these murders that he just doesn’t get yet, but he will.   He almost always does.  Still, his coffee is cold and he can feel a lingering tiredness sabotaging his limbs, so he sends his cup to the sink as he gathers the file backup, packing it away, going to bed with a nagging voice in this head, telling him that he’s missing something important.

                Going into work the next day is normal routine: getting dressed, a bagel and coffee, hurrying along the early morning subway shuffle to make his train.  He heads straight to the briefing room when he arrives, just like he should, but even though he’s the second to last one there and they have time to chat, there is very little small talk.  The “big” killers always get to them in ways that discourage small talk.  “Where’s Garcia,” Reid asks, used to being the last one there.

                “Garcia called Hotch last night, said she had some contacts who might have some insight.”  Blake just shrugged a shoulder, stared at two crime scene photos again.  So they wait, drink coffee, stare at files as long as they can; Reid’s eyesight is becoming a tag strained when Garcia bursts in with two strangers. 

                “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she mumbles, a tad breathless as she closes the door behind the three of them, “there was some traffic and-“

                “Garcia,” says Hotch in the voice of his that means business-like kindness, a gentle reprimand.

                “Yeah, right, sorry,” she apologizes again, a brief smile on her face.  “These are my friends Peter Petrelli and Dr. Mohinder Suresh.”

                “The geneticist,” Reid says as he looks them over.  Peter is obviously American, with black hair and a jacket, shirt, and jeans combo.  Mohinder is dressed very professionally, suiting the environment more.

                “The famous geneticist is my father.”

                “You helped inspire his research and made some important progress in the field yourself.”

                “Have you read _Activating Evolution_?”  Reid just nods.  “Good, this will be a bit easier to explain then.”

                “Or we can just do shock value…”

                “Peter-“

                “Look Mohinder, I get it, we don’t just tell people but this is _Sylar_.”

                “I know but we’re starting with science.”  Peter lets out an amused huff and the others were clearly getting agitated.  “Human beings each have a unique genetic code, and thanks to the Human Genome Project, we are closer to understanding human DNA.  Humanity is on the next step towards evolution.”

                ”Your father’s book said that some people have abilities.”  Reid knows the late Dr. Suresh’s theories were correct but he doesn’t know these people enough yet to trust them.

                “Like flying,” Peter says, floating up in the air and Reid can feel his heartbeat in his throat as Morgan swears.

                “Like that.”

                “Garcia has one too; come on Penelope.”  Garcia looks shaky but placing a hand on the screen of the television behind her, she appears to turn it on with but a thought.

                “Penelope is a technopath,” Mohinder says, all professional pride and compassion.  “Peter can fly and I have super-strength.  Now, Sylar, he has an ability too, one that allows him to use others’ abilities, just like Peter’s used to.”

                “Used to,” says Hotchner, and for all of a surprise this is to them, the team is remarkably calm.

                “I have power mimicry, but I Have a less strong version than I used to.  It’s a long story, but if you’re going to catch Sylar you’re going to need powers of your own.  There’s a formula, but we don’t have enough to dose all of you.”

                “No need,” says Morgan calmly before raising a hand and making blue electricity pool in his palm.  Peter barely blinks, gives a short nod with a mutter of ‘electrokinesis’ before he’s surveying the group.

                “I still need one more ‘I’m not getting shot up’ volunteer.”  Reid raises his hand with a cough.

                “I’ll stay as I am thank you.”  He almost tells them but there’s an instinct, a memory, a nagging voice that holds him back.  His teammates look at him with pity while the other two just nod.  Spencer realizes with a bit of a shock that his teammates think he doesn’t want to associate with needles and mystery drugs after Tobias Hankel and the whole Dilaudid fallout, especially now after Maeve.  Let them think what they want, but Spencer is no longer that person, no longer that weak.  Still, he watches distractedly as the others make plans, watching Morgan and Garcia in particular because he had _no_ idea they had abilities as well.  It’s not _too_ hard, the math allows for the possibility if he increases his estimate of worldwide population.

                “What are you thinking about Reid,” Mohinder asks, having separated himself from the rest. 

                “How it makes sense scientifically and mathematically.”  He’s also thinking that the _something_ off about the case was obviously abilities now, but Mohinder laughs somewhat bitterly at his statement, and even though the laugh is pained it is kind. 

                “I used to argue with my father about how it wasn’t possible; look at me now.  I’m not sure he’d be proud.”

                “I’m not sure my mother would be proud either.”

                “I’m sorry.”  Spencer just shrugs, knows that Mohinder thinks she’s dead too, but in a way she is; she is dead enough.  The civilians leave soon after and Reid waits for someone to say it.

                “Okay Garcia,” starts JJ and Spencer marvels on how you can always count on Jennifer.  “I trust your judgment, but how do you know we can trust these guys?”  The surprise is when Morgan answers her.

                “They’ve saved the world a couple of times.  I’d say they’re trustworthy.”

                “This isn’t a comic book Morgan,” retorts Rossi, brow drawn together.

                “They weren’t lying though,” Reid says, “and they promised to give us the best known list of Sylar’s powers they can find.  We can trust them enough to help us for this.”  The room is briefly quiet.

                “Let’s go over the file,” starts Hotchner.


	2. Powers and a Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team members gain abilities, an encounter, and Spencer meets someone.

                In the end it’s an old warehouse and it’s done separately, everyone without powers and not currently being dosed waiting outside.  They start with Hotch.  They strap him down in a chair, just in case, and with careful precision Mohinder ties off the man’s arm and sticks the needle in.  Reid watches with a sense of fascination.  It’s not every day that you see someone gain super human powers after all.  Hotchner is out of it for only about ten minutes.  When he comes to, they unstrap him and wait.  Nothing happens.  Peter is the one who speaks up.  “We need to scare you.  So you react instinctively,” which is right when Morgan pulls a jump scare and Hotchner disappears, quite literally.  Reid would almost laugh if the situation that spawned this wasn’t so dire.  “Aaron?”

                “Yeah?”

                “You’re still invisible.”

                “Oh.”  He reappears with a look of deep concentration.  Morgan smiles even if it does seem tightly wound.  “Get someone else in here.”  They do everyone fairly quickly.  Rossi gets simple flight and Blake gets something Mohinder mutters as “his”.  JJ’s is trickier but it turns out she has supercharging.  Reid finds himself remarkably pleased to have his friends in on a secret.  They spend a good portion of the night training themselves, end up with three hours of sleep, and go into their headquarters before anyone else.  It’s dark and quiet, like some scene in a horror movie.  Reid likes to think it’s horribly cliché, but they turn lights on, make coffee, and the team plus their two experts.  They go through the coffee quickly and Spencer offers to get the refills, needs the time to clear his head.  There’s a lot going on, and he has to adjust to this shift in world view and keeping his secret even more secret; levels and complexes that adjust morals and ideals with his team.   It will take some getting used to.

                “Spencer.”  He looks up and around, finds this seems to be some kind of horror movie echo when he hears his name again, in his head.  “Spencer.”  Reid lowers a hand to his gun, moves carefully to get a better view of the room.

                “Who’s there?”

                “You really think I wouldn’t find out about my _own_ investigation?  I thought you were the genius.”  He’s really starting to hate the stranger’s voice in his head.  “Stranger?  Tut-tut.  I thought I just told you who I am.”  _Mindreading. **Sylar.**_ “There’s the genius.”  There’s laughter when Reid goes to hide, because he knows it’s pointless, that this Sylar will know exactly where he is anyway.  Unless he can find a way to close him out.  “Good luck with that Doctor.  It is nearly impossible.”  Spencer ducks into a janitor’s cupboard, breaks an entire beaker so he can levitate the glass and anything else he can think of, including his gun.  “Keeping secrets are we, I’m quite surprise-“  Reid manages to cut him off.  (Maybe it’s the panic, he supposes.)  he has no idea how long he stays there.  He does know that when the door opens he sends everything forward and cocks his gun.  “Reid, jesus!”

                “Morgan?”  He stops the glass from skewering his friend in time.

                “Reid man, what the hell!”

                “He was here,” Reid says breathlessly.  “Sylar was her, he-“

                “Reid you’re not making any sense.”  He’s still panicked, hands raised in the air, objects still poised in the area surrounding him and Morgan isn’t listening, the team that’s arriving _isn’t listening._

                “Sylar was here damn it!”  Spencer can see everyone’s brief shock at his swearing.  “He was here and we have to find him-“

                “Reid, we’ve checked the whole floor when you went missing, no one else is here.”

                “How long have I been missing?”

                “Twenty or thirty minutes; look just… lower the glass and everything okay, we’ll have a good chat.”  He does it slowly, reluctantly holsters his gun, and his hands are shaking all the way to the briefing room, even as they bring him coffee.  He tells them from the beginning and despite the looks he doesn’t stop until it’s told.  “Reid it sounds like an episode.”

                “What?”

                “It sounds like you had a schizophrenic episode.”

                “We established before that I’m not-“

                “Nevertheless, even if we include the powers information- including that you have one- we can’t rule out the possibility.”

                “You don’t believe me…”  They all open their mouths to respond but he doesn’t give the chance.  “No, I’m done for the day, _done_.”  He storms out of the entire building, goes down to the coffee shop down the street.  As he rounds the corner to the entrance he runs full on into someone, gets a latte on his cardigan.

                “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, I’ll pay for it I _swear_.”  The guy keeps babbling as Spencer looks him over.  He’s a bit taller, black hair, slightly mop-ish over think eyebrows and pink lips.  He looks built under a baggy sweatshirt and jeans and Reid’s brain is kind enough to provide the word _cute_.  “Really, please at least let me buy your coffee, I feel horrible, _please._ ”

                “Sure,” he says, without thinking about it, still wet and shaken and angry, and the guy is so upset that this seems reasonable, coffee and a brief distraction.  They get coffee.  The man grins when Spencer pours his large amount of sugar into his cup.

                “I’m James, by the way, and I really am sorry for the coffee.”

                “I’m Spencer.  It’s not a big deal, I’m taking a personal day anyway, I can just go change.”

                “Well that’s good; I’d feel so bad if you had to go to work like that.  I just have to go back to my studio myself.”

                “Studio?”  James laughs, runs a hand through his hair.

                “Yeah, uh I’m a small time artist, a painter.  You’re going to laugh at me now.”

                “I think it’s admirable.  The world needs artists.”  Spencer smiles into his coffee.

                “Says the big professional guy.  I mean, sorry, that’s rude to assume…”

                “No, no, its okay I um, work for the FBI so uh, that’d be correct.”  Reid runs a hand through his hair.       

                “Can I pain you?  It’s just, you have a kind of face that-“

                “Or you could just ask me out on a date and then offer to paint me.”  They both laugh.  Spencer drains his coffee.

                “So Spencer, how about that date?”  They trade numbers and Reid follows him to his studio and it feels so incredibly good to let go, strips his cardigan off so he stands only in his button-down and tie.  It’s _nice_ for someone to find him attractive, feel his eyes run over his skin.  It’s nice for someone to be interested in _him_ and not his brain.  James takes pictures, candid polaroids as they talk and the guy seems utterly un-phased by Spencer’s brain and Spencer glows as he kisses him.  His lips are chapped and his mouth tastes like black coffee with just too much cream.  He has paint flecks inn his hair, but Spencer suspects he always does, suspects he likes it.  They make out for a while, Spencer climbing on top of James, and at one point he nails him with his elbow and despite the initial pained grunt it creates quite the giggle between the two.  James breaks off to start sucking a line of hickies in Reid’s neck, making Reid groan loudly in his lap.

                “If- Jesus _Christ_ –if we’re doing this you better have condoms and lube somewhere.”

                “Breaking the mood.”

                “Setting the mood with safe sex.”

                “Level-headed and aroused, just how I like all my boys…  You’re going to have to let me up to go find some sweetheart.”  Spencer shivers leans down kiss into James’ mouth again before moving, and when James comes back Spencer revels in making him scream for him.


End file.
